Ergo, ipso facto columbo oreo
by penandra
Summary: A place to collect one/shots that probably have no relationship to each other but all having to do with Booth & Brennan and other characters from time to time.  Chapter 4 - a prompt from Kitty.  A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.   Eleanor Roosevelt
1. The Couch

_A/N: This story came about after reading Nattylovesjordy's "Love and Other Senses" (Chapter 14)._

_Disclaimer: I DO own Bones - but only on DVD.  
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><p>The back of the couch faces the windows of the office. Anyone walking by on their way to other parts of the Lab or to the public part of the Jeffersonian may catch a glimpse into her office, but not the front of the couch. Although she purchased it new when she moved in, the couch is beginning to show signs of wear, of being well used and appreciated. She probably couldn't count the number of times she has taken a nap or just rested her eyes after a long stretch with bones or paperwork. It's been her refuge; it's been her solace.<p>

Micah would often find her here. The light still on over her desk and a box of bones spread out on the light table, if she awoke when he came in she'd tell him that she was just resting for a moment. A brief conversation and she would go back to work and Micah would return to his rounds.

On the nights that she didn't awaken, he would cover her with the hand knit afghan that usually rests in the basket in the corner. Whether they'd had a conversation, or she'd slept through his visit, Booth would appear shortly afterwards to take her home. After Maluku she would work through the night with no interruptions. Micah would still appear, sometimes with a snack and a short conversation, but when he was gone, she'd go back to the bones. She often found herself completely unaware of the passage of time until the first interns showed up for the workday.

As she sits at her paper-covered desk, she glances over at the couch and the man asleep there. A day's growth of beard on his cheeks, his hair slightly mussed, he's lying on his side with his arms crossed in a way that she knows his shoulder will ache when he awakens. His shoes have been kicked off and are under the long coffee table that holds the remnants of their late dinner and his shoulder holster. Those garish striped socks that he loves are a colorful contrast to his gray suit pants.

His face is relaxed in slumber. The corners of his mouth have a slight upturn that brings to mind his quick smile. The crinkling around his eyes (we will NOT call them wrinkles yet!) and the furrowing of his forehead disappear when he is this relaxed. Although trite, the assessment is true; he appears younger and more boyish as he sleeps.

He is usually a light sleeper. From his time in the military, his time in combat, his sniper training, he has an awareness about him even in sleep that some call a sixth sense and he refers to as his sniper sense. She revels in being able to sit and watch him sleep. To know that after all these years of guarded looks and carefully editing her words, that she can just sit and take in the man she loves.

Leaning back in her desk chair, she reaches over and logs out of the Jeffersonian network for the day. Stretching her legs under her desk, her toes search for the flats she had kicked off earlier in the evening. Her right hand goes to her belly in a protective gesture that she never thought she would experience.

She is once again overwhelmed with emotion. She has never been a particularly sentimental person, so she knows that the tears that spring to her eyes are partly due to pregnancy hormones. But on another level she is aware that her thought process is changing a bit. As she slips into her jacket and turns off the light over her desk, she wonders if this feeling is what others are talking about when they speak of being at peace. She moves toward the man on the couch and calls out his name.

His eyes open as he rolls onto his back. His smile widens as he stretches and asks just one word, "Home?" As they walk out the door towards his SUV, one of his hands on the small of her back, they exchange a goodnight wave with Micah as he makes his rounds.


	2. A Body in Motion

_A/N: This is my story for Biba79's Secret Santa . . . and is posted for MoxieGirl - she asked for Brennan and Booth with Pops and Max . . . with humor, affection, competitive game, food, and singing - I should maybe have added Christmas caroling to the story and I would have hit them all! ;-) Actually, although we're late for this holiday season, if you've never heard Maura Sullivan's "Christmas Eve in Washington", as a former resident, I think it's worth a listen. You can find it here _

_www . christmaseveinwashington . net (omit spaces of course)  
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_ This story takes place during the winter holidays of 2011/12 with no change in canon other than what I have embellished below . . . which leads me to this disclaimer: I DO own Bones . . . I have the first six seasons on DVD (but have some real problems watching the beginning episodes of S.6). _

_Unfortunately (for me, but probably not for you) I do not own any of the characters, rights to the show, or any royalties from same. But it's nice to have an imagination, eh?_

_Thanks for reading (and don't forget to also check out MoxieGirl's stories at u / 3062171  
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><p>Looking around the living room, Booth smiled. It had been a great holiday season. On Christmas Eve Bones had gone to midnight Mass with him and Parker, and she even refrained from making any comments about celebrating the wrong date for the birth of Jesus Christ. They had dropped Parker off at Rebecca's on the way home from church, then made their way home through the light snow fall.<p>

Christmas morning had dawned bright and beautiful. Their first Christmas as an official couple they frequently found themselves grinning at each other for no discernable reason. There was a light covering of snow and after opening their gifts, they had a leisurely breakfast before heading up to see Pops at "the Home." The week following Christmas had been graciously quiet, with no new cases. They each had the opportunity to get some end of the year paper work cleaned up and Bones was starting to prepare for her upcoming maternity leave, writing detailed instructions for the interns and a plethora of notes for Cam.

On New Year's Eve Day (once again both a day and an Eve), while Bones took a short nap, Booth drove to pick up Pops and bring him back to the apartment. At this stage in the pregnancy, they had opted for a quiet New Year's Eve at home rather than being out among the revelers. Max joined them for a quiet dinner, and although they all tried, the opening minutes of the New Year found each of them checking the inside of their eyelids for light leaks and they missed the annual fireworks display across the river in Alexandria.

Lying quietly with his eyes still closed, Booth slowly came awake as he felt the bed shift next to him when Bones got out of bed. He heard her soft footfalls headed towards the bathroom. Slowly rolling onto his side, he glanced at the ancient Big Ben alarm clock on his nightstand. "His nightstand," he felt the smile on his face as he realized that thoughts like that still caught him off guard from time to time.

It was early still, especially for a wintry Sunday morning, and he had to resist the urge to just roll over and burrow back under the covers and convince Bones to come back to bed for some quality cuddling time. With a soft moan, he shook his head. Last night had been one of the quieter New Year's Eves he had celebrated in awhile. And here it is, a new year, a fresh start, New Year's Day 2012.

He laid back and thought about where he was a year ago to where he woke up this morning still amazed at how much can happen in the span of just one short year. With almost every case they worked Booth was reminded that life can change in an instant and he's had more than a few of those instances in this past year. Looking back without regret, he can honestly say that if last year at this time someone had asked him to write down where he would be on New Year's Day 2012, it wouldn't be waking up next to Bones, his pregnant (very pregnant) partner, with Pops just down the hall in the guest room and Max on the futon in Bones' home office.

Shaking his head, he felt his breath catch as he lay there in their bed. "Your life is good, Seeley Booth. Your life is very, very good," he thought to himself.

Hearing the toilet flush and the water start in the bathroom sink, Booth sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. This was part of their usual morning routine. Sliding into his slippers and grabbing his flannel robe from the back of the bedroom door, Booth made his way into the kitchen to get coffee started, and the water kettle on for Bones' tea. He pulled the cinnamon rolls from the fridge so that they could finish the last of their rise on the counter before being popped into the oven.

He smiled as she made her way into the kitchen, and he slipped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster as he moved towards her. Sliding an arm around her shoulders and resting his other hand on her belly, he pulled her in for a morning hug and a toothpaste flavored kiss.

Hearing the clearing of a throat, Booth looked over the top of Bones' head into his grandfather's twinkling eyes. "I must say, Shrimp, I never get tired of seeing the two of you so happy," Pops grinned.

With eleven hours of New Year's Day football ahead of them, and the new 62" plasma set up in the living room, this obviously is no day to start on resolutions having anything to do with dietary restrictions or exercise. Bones rolled her eyes as she saw the spread Booth began laying out on the coffee table. Catching her eye and using his charm smile that he knew she found hard to resist, he held up one of the bags of chips, "But Bones, look their health food! I got the multi grain ones that you like!"

He loves that she's willing to watch the games with them. Propping his feet up on the ottoman he thinks that the only thing that could make today better is if Parker were here enjoying it with them. As they sit and watch the game, Bones leans back into the couch with her iPad propped up on her baby belly, Booth reaches over every once in awhile to feel his daughter kick.

He glances over at her from time to time and a couple of times he catches her looking up at the screen. Usually when one of them has muttered something about a call, or when they all jump to their feet and scream at the screen. He's waiting, because he knows that it is coming. She did this to him when they were watching the Phillies earlier this year, and he knows that sooner or later she is not going to be able to hold it in any longer. He can almost feel her vibrating next to him trying to resist the urge.

It doesn't take long and comes during the second half of the Philadelphia Washington game. "Go ahead, Bones. Squinticize away!"

"Booth? We've been over this before. You know 'squinticize' isn't a word."

"So you say, but it's what you do. You squinticized the Phillies and now you're going to squinticize the Eagles. But I'm ready for you this time! I've done some research! Did you know that Dr. Timothy Gay from the University of Nebraska at Lincoln has written two books on the subject of physics and football? And he has a web page, Bones. A web page where I can download videos to see physics and football explained. Football is scientific, Bones. Watching football is educational. While we are sitting here in the comfort of your living room, watching this magnificent big screen television, enjoying these delicious snacks, we are being taught physics, Bones!

"For instance, we are being shown examples of Newton's three laws of motion. Newton's first law is the lesson of mass and inertia, that an object in motion stays in motion in a straight line unless acted upon by a force. The opposite is true of a mass at rest, bigger masses are harder to get moving the smaller masses. Then there is the law of vectors . . ." Spotting the surprised look on her face, he smiles, "You look surprised, Bones."

"No. Just pleased. I was afraid when we got the television that it would be a useless piece of furniture. I know you enjoy sports and I want you to be able to watch them, but I didn't realize that it could spur you to learn more about physics!" She smiles up at him as she leans into his shoulder for a hug. She tips her head back on his shoulder and he looks down into her beautiful blue eyes. He's noticed that when she's excited about something, passionate even, her eyes get a little glint in them and he sees it there as he leans down to give her a kiss.

Before moving his attention back to the game, he whispers, "Wait until next week when the Flyers play and I'll tell you all about the effect of shape on the flexibility of a hockey stick, how temperature affects the puck sliding on ice, and the study of the phenomenon of color and how the brain processes it to increase goal scoring."

Glancing at the startled glances of Pops and Max, Booth motions back to the screen, "Second half, boys. Second half!"

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><p><em>Dr. Timothy Gay has published two books on Physics and Football. Both available through Amazon dot com. If you google physics + football you will also find a link to the University of Nebraska - Lincoln with short videos (you will need to download Quicktime) explaining physics and football (starring some former players for Big Red).<em> _ Googling physics + hockey will lead you to an excellent book on (duh!) physics in hockey._

_Reviews are always appreciated, I'm not above begging. (it's that little blue button at the bottom of the page)  
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	3. Jam Jar Jobs

_A/N: Happy Birthday to FaithInBones. Her request is at the end of the story. I did try to give her what she REALLY wanted for her birthday. I had the label and packaging all ready to send, but Special Agent Seeley Booth just flat out refused to get into the shipping container - especially when he was told that he couldn't wear anything other than his boxers. _

_Also a shout-out to razztaztic (if you haven't been reading her story-a-day posts this week, you are missing a real treat!). And a heartfelt thanks to Mendenbar for the read-through. Always a good thing for me to have someone else read what I've written!  
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_Disclaimer: If anyone reading this really thinks that I could in anyway believe that I own any part of Bones (other than on DVD), there is a bridge across the straits of Mackinac that I would like to sell you. Cheap. Really. It's a pretty bridge._

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><p>From where she stood at the kitchen sink, Temperance Brennan sighed with a sense of comfort and well-being that she had been missing most of the summer. She looked over at her partner reading the sports section at the kitchen table. His hair stuck up at all angles, he had on a well-worn Poco t-shirt pulled over a pair of khaki cargo shorts. His bare feet were propped on the chair she had recently vacated and one hand reached for his coffee cup. "So what's in the jam jar for today, Booth?" She asked.<p>

"Honey-do jar, Bones. Honey-do." He replied without missing a beat. Glancing up from the paper, he caught the smirk on her face. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

Her smirk widened into a smile as she replied, "You said you wanted to cut the lawn this morning before it got too warm. Also those roses that we bought during the week are on the side of the garage. They should go into the ground today, too." He watched her as she moved over to where their daughter sat in her high chair, happily throwing Cheerio's into the air. He was taken off guard as his breath caught at the seeming normalcy of Brennan, damp washcloth in hand, wiping jam and crumbs from Christine's face and hands.

He let out a contented sigh, then folded the paper and dropped his feet to the floor. Shuffling into the worn pair of shoes under the table, he pushed the chair back and stood. "Yeah." He made a wry face. "You're right." He stepped over and dropped a quick kiss on her nose while his hand dropped to her hip and gave a slight squeeze. His face brightened as he cocked his eyebrows, "And, if I get started now, I'll be able to listen to the ball game in the hammock this afternoon. What are your plans for the morning, Bones?"

"I have my own jam jar jobs," she replied with a grin. "I'll put in a load of laundry and, unless you need some help with those rose bushes, I'm hoping that Christine will take a short nap so that I may get a little work done on the next chapter of my book." She tossed the damp washcloth into the sink and lifted the baby onto her hip, hugging her close.

Booth dropped a kiss on the back of the squirming infant's head and grabbed his Phillies ball cap from the hook by the back door. He smiled as he tugged it over his bed head hair. "I think I'm good with the roses. I'll let you know if I need some supervision." He chuckled as he walked out the door.

Having spent so much of the previous year working on restoring the inside of their home, they had finally been getting to work on the yard and had slowly been making their way around the outside of the house. Early in the spring, Booth had made a trip to Brown's Hardware over in Falls Church and later that week a load of red bricks had been delivered.

On the first warm weekend after a late spring frost, Booth and Parker spent the two days building a brick barbecue in a corner of the backyard. A few weeks later another load of red brick appeared and the following weekend Wendell joined the Booth boys putting in a patio and a walkway.

There had been a deck out the back door when they first bought the house, but like other parts of the house, it had been in disrepair and they had talked about demolishing it and hopefully salvaging the wood for raised vegetable beds in the backyard.

After the christening, Booth had taken out some of his fury and frustrations razing the deck. He'd found himself surprised that even with the rage he'd taken out wielding a sledgehammer at the boards, there had still been enough usable wood to recycle for the garden beds.

He'd spent a full Saturday vainly trying to regain some hope and faith that their life would ever return to normal as he tried to distract himself from the anger at his boss and everyone involved by cutting and hammering the recycled wood into frames, taking only a short break for his weekly visit to the Farmer's Market. The next day he headed back over to Brown's for more tools and further exhausted himself over the course of that Sunday afternoon clearing dead and dying vegetation from a sunny spot near the back fence to place the garden frames.

With Brennan and Christine now safely back home, and their life starting to return to a familiar and comfortable routine, he was taking some of the yard work at a more leisurely pace. He whistled while he gathered the lawnmower, shovel, and hose from the garage and headed toward the front yard.

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Pushing in the button on the iPod dock, Brennan sang along with the music as she quickly stripped the bed linens and got them into the washing machine. She could smell the fresh cut grass through the open upstairs window as she pulled fresh sheets onto the mattress, straightened the blanket, smoothed the light cotton summer quilt over the top and fluffed the pillows as she moved them into place. Listening to Booth moving back and forth with the lawn mower, she detected the slight change in sound as he moved in and around the tree roots from the large maple in the front yard.

Hearing the mower stop, Brennan glanced out the window and felt her breath hitch. Booth had stripped off his shirt and was using it to wipe some sweat off his face before tossing it in the direction of the front porch. She smiled and sighed at the sight of his tanned chest, his well-defined pectoral muscles, now covered by nothing more than his gold chain holding his St. Christopher's medal.

She stepped back from the window and let the gauzy curtain fall in front of her as she looked up and down the quiet neighborhood street. With an anticipatory grin she stood and waited and watched. She quirked an eyebrow and her grin widened knowingly when her ear caught the smack of the wooden screen door banging shut across the street. She watched as her neighbor stepped onto the porch and moved over to one of the easy chairs off to the side of the wide front porch. Brennan held back a smile as MJ positioned a mug on the side table, then turned and raised a hand to wave and call out to the neighbor a house down.

"Lenora!" MJ hailed her neighbor. "Over here!" Peeking through the curtains at the neighbor retrieving the newspaper from the driveway, Brennan watched as Lenora's hand rose to acknowledge MJ's greeting. Brennan could pinpoint the moment the other woman spotted Booth and she raised her hand and stifled a giggle as she watched Lenora straighten, push her shoulders back, smooth her shorts, and reach up to pat her hair into place.

Temperance Brennan might be lacking in knowledge in some areas, but she was not unaware of the affect her partner apparently had on some of the women in their neighborhood. She watched Lenora moving up the steps to MJ's porch and muffled a giggle when the woman's attention, obviously on Booth, caused her to stumble when her toe caught on the rug in front of the two chairs that seemed ideally positioned for the best view. As Lenora caught herself, Brennan smirked at her quick glance around to see if anyone had noticed her near tumble. "Yes, I did." Brennan whispered under her breath.

With a last look at the women across the street, Brennan stepped back from the window, turned and moved down the hall to check on Christine. Assuring herself that the baby was asleep, she quickly slipped into a pair of sneakers and ran down the stairs. Grabbing Booth's Flyers hat from a hook, she slipped her ponytail through the back of the cap and tugged it into place on her head. She snatched her sunglasses and a pair of garden gloves from the catchall basket on the shelf and stepped out the back door.

Coming around the corner of the house, she saw that Booth was just getting the second rose into the holes he had dug. She stopped at the hose bib to turn on the water, and moved down the front walk to where he was tamping dirt around the roses.

"That's exactly where I wanted them, Booth. Thank you. That's perfect" She smiled at him then took a deep breath and caught his familiar scent. Even hot and sweaty from chores, she felt her body's reaction to her partner. A feeling she had missed over the previous few months. Shaking the thought from her head, she said, "I can give them a deep watering if you'd like to move the rest of the tools back to the garage."

Wiping a hand across his forehead, Booth smiled at the innocent look she was trying to put on her face. He leaned forward but stopped just short of giving her a quick kiss on the lips. He turned slightly and with his lips right next to her ear, she felt a slight shudder as he asked in a low voice, "so did you think I needed supervision," he gave a low chortle, "or them?" She felt him lean in closer, "meet you in the shower in ten minutes," he whispered as he nipped at her earlobe and smacked her on the butt then turned and moved toward the back of the house.

Temperance Brennan took a deep breath as she watched Booth walk toward the back of the house. She moved her eyes up and down his body and restrained an audible gasp as his shorts slipped lower on his hips when he bent over to grab his T-shirt from where he'd thrown it on the front porch. She turned and gave a quick smile and a wave to the two women watching from the porch across the street then hurried after him, stopping only to turn off the water on her way to the back door. She sighed deeply as she hoped that their daughter would nap just a little longer.

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><p><em>What FaithInBones requested:<em>

"_Booth (wearing jeans, work boots, and a St. Christopher medal) is working in the front yard trying to plant some bushes. Brennan comes home (from shopping?) and sees Booth in the yard with a very beautiful woman standing and talking to him. The woman puts her hand on Booth's sweaty arm and . . . Well, I leave the rest to you. HA HA Love me a jealous Brennan."_

_Okay, this isn't exactly what she asked for . . . but it's what I wrote. I had started out with something closer to what was requested, but as I was working on it, the muse apparently had other plans since she unapologetically hijacked the whole thing and took us off on a completely (but not unwelcome) different path.  
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	4. Tea For Two

_A/N: __A woman is like a tea bag - you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water. (Eleanor Roosevelt)_

_My friend Kitty gave me a prompt of Brennan being a tea-snob. __It might have been the day (Monday), it might have been the heat (triple digit), it might have just been for no reason at all. But when I ran the idea past another author on the site with no strain at all the ideas poured out and I had brewed up an idea. Oh, stop me before I pun again!_

_Like my Dead Daisy fic ("Grass Huts") this story might be best enjoyed by those among us who enjoy Feghoots._

_Thanks to NatesMama for the read through! _

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><p>"Cup of tea, Dr. B?" Jack Hodgins cocked his head in question. He turned on the electric kettle as he looked over at his colleague sitting on the couch. He wasn't sure she had heard his question. She seemed to be deeply immersed in the file folder in front of her.<p>

"Oh. Thank you, Dr. Hodgins, but, I don't think so." Dr. Temperance Brennan looked up from the latest case file that she had been reviewing. "Booth says that I'm a bit of a tea snob. I do tend to be quite particular about my tea." She smiled apologetically then moved her eyes back down to the file in her hands as she continued, "I have some real tea down in my office, I'll get it in a ..." hearing her colleague loudly clear his throat she glanced back up with a quizzical look on her face then smiled when she spotted the scoop and tea tin he was holding out towards her.

"Ahh!" she responded with a smile and a nod of her head. "Real tea! Of course. I could _cozy _up to a nice cup of _reali-tea_!"

Narrowing his eyes and giving her a sideways glance, a grin lit up his face as he replied, "_Water_ you thinking, Dr. B? Let me give you a _tip._ I hope you know that there's a _tannin _one chance that I would ever offer you tea dust." He watched as a look of glee rushed across her face and thought, "Game on!"

Brennan couldn't hold back her smile. "He caught it," she thought happily. She always enjoyed swapping puns with Jack Hodgins. It felt like yoga for her brain. "Dr. Hodgins, I'm sure that_ yunnan_ that I wouldn't go _oolong_ if you did." She watched the grin go across his face.

"_Chai_ would have to _strain_ to think that with any certain-_tea_. Otherwise I would just _leaf_ you to your reading." He replied matching her grin as he poured boiling water over the tea leaves in the pot and set the timer.

She chuckled as her brain quickly catalogued words she could use for her response, "I _flush_ to think how easy it is for you to _keemun_ coming!"

As he moved to get a couple of mugs down from the shelf, he looked over his shoulder at her and responded, "Yes, that could get some trouble _brewing_ and could make me _Mad as a Hatta!_"

"I'm not looking for _gong-fu_ fighting. I'll just sit here, _fanning_ myself and try to be quiet as a _Dormouse_ while you finish up." She replied, as she sat forward in her chair, intent on the conversation.

Before Jack could respond to Brennan's latest remark, Cam entered the lounge area, a file folder in her hands. "I got the report back on toxicology and stomach contents for our two victims. I sent it over to Booth at the Hoover. He says he has a suspect and may have more information for us in a little while."

"Ah!" Hodgins glanced at Cam, then turned his twinkling eyes back toward Brennan. "This must be about the casual-_teas_ we had in the Lab yesterday_._"

Brennan grinned back at him, "Maybe the murderer will claim insani-_tea_! Of course," she continued with a playful grimace on her face, "if it was Christmas, the murderer could claim in-santa-_tea!"_

Hodgins groaned, but then eagerly responded, "_Ceylon_ as they don't deny responsibili_tea_! But, at least we know that they weren't shot because there wasn't any _gunpowder_!"

"But there certainly must have been some hostile-_tea_ since two people died!" Brennan shot back.

Cam stared at the two scientists. "Are you two okay?" She asked, looking back and forth between the two co-workers with a look of bewilderment on her face quickly replaced by a look of defeat. "You two are at it again, aren't you? You're doing that pun thing that you …."

"Noooo," Jack replied, looking sideways at Brennan and struggled to keep a straight face. "We're just _pekoeing_ fun at each other." He guffawed loudly as Brennan bent over in laughter.

Cam shook her head and looked pointedly at the cups in each of their hands. "That is just tea, isn't it?" She asked. The co-workers seemed to just laugh harder in response to her question.

Brennan struggled to keep a straight face, but when she glanced over at Hodgins she lost it and started laughing again. "Dr. Hodgins," she gasped out. "Re_strain_ yourself!"

For his part, Jack had turned back toward the galley, but his shaking shoulders belied any success that he was able to establish any seriousness for the conversation at hand. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something serious. He finally thought that he was okay, and turned back to the two women. He heard Brennan gasp and started laughing again.

Ignoring the two, Cam looked pointedly at the cups in their hands then down at the teapot on the table in front of them and continued on. "As you know, we were only able to obtain the stomach contents from one victim. The results of the mass spec showed that his last meal was apparently tea and biscuits."

Brennan and Hodgins looked down at their respective mugs, then up at each other. Slowly they started to put down the cups when Cam chuckled. "No. The toxicology report showed that it wasn't the tea that was poisoned. The poison was in the biscuits. The biscuits had been poisoned."

"Tea and scones, actually," Booth said as he entered the lounge area accompanied by Gordon-Gordon.

"Booth! _'Sup Brew?_" Hodgins laughed at the bewildered look on the face of the Special Agent.

Brennan laughed at the look on Booth's face and before he could answer, she asked, "Did you get a confession, _Darjeeling_?" Brennan tried to swallow the laughter that was bubbling up as he rolled his eyes.

Booth looked at Cam with raised eyebrows. Cam gave a deep sigh and shook her head at him in response to the unasked question. "Yes. I know. I don't know what started it. They've been doing this ever since I walked in with the tox and stomach results. I don't get it, but they seem to be cracking each other up." She shook her head and rolled her eyes at the two co-workers. "You know how they are once the get started!"

Booth looked back and forth between Hodgins and Brennan attempting and failing to hide the smile that was making itself known at the corners of his mouth. Truth be told, he rather enjoyed it when Bones and Jack got got punny. It allowed others to see a playful side of her that she didn't frequently let others witness. "Bones," he asked, "how can you not know who Led Zeppelin is, but you can talk in puns?"

"_Wyui_ don't know what you mean, Booth. I've always told you that I have a _steep_ learning curve." Her eyes twinkled as he groaned back at her.

"I just am so not going there." Booth responded shaking his head at her but letting the smile show on his face. "I'll leave that to the two of you. Anyway, back to the case," he continued. "Once we got the tox report from Cam, it didn't take long to get the Landlady to confess. But, I'm glad that Gordon-Gordon was able to sit in on this one with me." Booth acknowledged his friend who had just poured himself a mug of the hot beverage from the teapot in the galley.

"It is a pity she had to ruin such a civilized tradition, however." Gordon-Gordon commented as he took a sip of the tea. "Delicious tea, by the way Dr. Hodgins, Dr. Brennan." He nodded at each of the scientists in turn. "This blend is particularly good on such a cloudy, _err-all gray_ day!" He smiled at Hodgins' bark of laughter. "But, I must say, Agent Booth did _bag_ a killer." He smiled as he raised his cup in a silent salute and took a sip.

"You're _dragon,_ Booth! Get on with it!" The comment seemed to go right past Booth, but Drs. Brennan and Hodgins were laughing so hard Jack almost rolled off of the couch.

Booth looked quizzically at Hodgins and then turned to look at his partner, "Bones, what…"

"_Darjeeling,_" she purred. "_Pour _the story out, it's a bit of a _strain_ waiting for you to let us know what happened."

"Well, Bones," Booth grinned at her. He knew that he couldn't keep up with Bones and Jack, but he was pretty sure he could get in a quip or two. "We got a _tip._" He grinned at her and watched her eyes respond to him.

"It was the landlady as we suspected." Booth replied, swallowing a grin. He knew he shouldn't really be smiling when he was talking about this, but he thought he had them. "We picked her up this morning for questioning and Gordon-Gordon and I were talking with her when Cam sent over the tox and stomach contents reports."

"She said that she knew there were going to be problems when she rented the apartment to the two men. Apparently when they filled out their application, they both entered 'poet' as their occupations."

"It's an honorable profession, Agent Booth." Gordon-Gordon replied. "It doesn't pay very well in most cases, but it is an honorable profession."

"Yeah. And that might have been the problem." Booth responded. "They got behind in their rent, and she was having trouble trying to get them evicted. But when Cam sent over the test results that showed that the poison in the stomach contents and the toxicology report matched the poison that we had gathered from the shed in the back yard, Caroline said we had her. I'm guessing that's why she confessed."

"So, _pour_ it out, Booth! What happened?"

"She baked scones and put poison in one of them. Then she had the two men over for tea."

"The poets?" Brennan asked.

"Yes." He replied. "She served them tea and scones, and then sent them home with the leftovers. Who doesn't enjoy leftover scones? Apparently they split the poisoned scone between them. It killed them both."

Jack looked between Gordon-Gordon and Booth as he asked, "So what your saying, Booth, is . . . "

"Yup," He couldn't hold back the wide smile as he said it. _"She killed two bards with one scone."_


End file.
